Thankful for Pain in the Ass Little Brother's
by Muse2488
Summary: What is Dean thankful for? Just a fluffy OneShot for Thanksgiving! Please review! Happy Turkey Day Everyone!


**A/N: Just a fluffy Thanksgiving OneShot. I was in the mood for a tickle fic and I decided to write one. I hope y'all like it! Please leave me some reviews as they bring me warm and fuzzies! =]]**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the boys. I really, really, **_**really**_** wish I did though. But sadly, they and everything else related to Supernatural, belongs to Eric Kripke. Lucky bastard. **

Sam was brooding.

Again.

Dean was sick of it. They had been at Bobby's for four days now and Dean's leg was practically healed. Plus, it was Thanksgiving and they had an actual turkey. Like a real butterball 12 pound turkey! And Bobby managed to grab a crap load of sides and pie.

Pie!

Two pie's actually. A chocolate _and_ an apple pie. This was like Thanksgiving wrapped in Christmas, wrapped in Easter, and add in a few birthdays. And Sammy was totally ruining it.

The hunt hadn't even gone that bad in all honesty. I mean, he'd had worse. Shoot, _Sam_ had had worse. It started out as a normal salt and burn, but when the burn didn't get rid of the ghost they had to improvise. Sam of course was in charge of finding the object that still carried the bitch's DNA while Dean was in charge of distracting her. Dean immediately started spouting off insults before shooting salt filled rounds at the ghost every time she popped up. The bitch had been some chick named Jeanine Peters who was murdered by some dick who got away with it. She'd died almost 50 years ago and of course turned vengeful and started killing occupants of the house she was murdered in. Sam and Dean caught wind of it, investigated, and found out she was buried in the local cemetery.

It had taken Sam quite some time before he found the chicks wedding rings, and by then Dean had been thrown into three headstones, two trees, and then tossed across the cemetery. Dean landed on his ankle wrong and almost snapped it in half. Sam melted the jewelry just in time, and how they always seemed to make it would always astound Dean. Sam was at Dean's side in an instant once he parked the car. Dean was a bit light headed and his ankle was killing him, Sam was apologizing over and over and it pissed Dean off. Sam was always blaming himself for crap like this. He truly believed it was his fault, that because he 'took so damn long' that Dean had gotten hurt.

Pfft.

Getting hurt was part of the job. Sam knew that, but it didn't stop the kid from blaming himself. Not that Sam was a kid anymore. He was a man now. A friggin' huge man at that. Dean was still shocked at how friggin' big his 'little' brother was. But that was the truth right there; not matter how big Sammy got, he'd still be Dean's little brother; still be the kid that wanted to do everything his big brother did.

And right now, his little brother needed him.

Dean made his way towards the couch where Sam was currently lounging on the couch, dutifully ignoring Dean and Bobby as his brooding requires. Dean pushed Sam's legs off the couch and sat down.

"Dude!" Sam protested.

"Make room for your elders." Dean told him.

Sam rolled his eyes but didn't retaliate. That was a sure sign of brooding. Normally Dean would've at least gotten a punch in the shoulder. Sam sat up straighter on the couch, still leaning cadi-cornered against it.

"You're only four years older than me."

"Still older. And better looking."

Sam scoffed.

Dean stared intently at Sam, making the younger Winchester shift uncomfortably. Dean could read Sammy like an open book. He never had any trouble knowing exactly what Sam was thinking.

"Stop brooding already dude, this isn't your fault." Dean told him.

Sam scowled at him. "I'm not brooding."

"Yes you are and it's getting on my nerves. You're killing my pie buzz."

The sides of Sam's mouth quirked up slightly. "You haven't even had any pie yet."

"Exactly!" Dean cried.

"That didn't make any sense."

"No, what doesn't make sense is why you're blaming yourself for something that happens all the time."

"That's why it bothers me Dean; because it happens all the time." Sam said softly.

Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Sammy, listen to me. You saved my ass alright? You always seem to make it just in time."

"But if I hadn't—"

"No, no buts. If it hadn't been for you, my ass would've been toast. End of story. The bitch is gone and no one else is gonna die. Job well done in my opinion. And since mine is the only one that counts, that's the end of this conversation." Dean announced.

Sam rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile slightly.

"Whatever you say Dean." Sam told him.

Dean grinned at him. "See how much easier things are when you just agree with me?"

Sam snorted. "Yeah, sure."

"You just gotta admit it kid, I'm always right."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Kid? And you always being right?" Sam snorted. "Yeah right, and the Easter Bunny made out with Santa Claus at the Tooth Fairy's birthday party."

"You callin' me a liar?" Dean demanded in mock anger.

"Hey, if the shoe fits…"

Dean sat up straighter and gave his brother a playful glare. "You better take that back Sam."

Sam simply snuggled closer into the couch cushions before closing his eyes and giving his brother a submissive wave. "Yeah, yeah."

Dean poked Sam in the side.

And something interesting happened.

Sam squeaked and immediately brought his hands to his sides, his eyes shooting wide and staring incredulously at Dean.

Dean's eyes gained a mischievous glint and his mouth soon curled into an equally mischievous smirk. "Oh Sammy…"

Sam put his hands up, as if trying to ward him off. "Dean…"

"Don't tell me you're still ticklish. Oh this is too good to be true!" Dean laughed.

Sam made a break for it, but Dean was too fast. He pulled his brother to the back down, shoving him against the couch and straddling his hips. Sam was fighting against him, struggling to get away.

"Dean, don't please for the love of all that is holy, don't!" Sam begged as Dean finally overpowered his little brother. Dean had Sam's arms pinned under his knees.

"Trust me Sammy; this is for your own good. You're way too tense, you need a good laugh."

"Dean, please!" Sam pulled out the last thing he had in his arsenal, the puppy dog eyes. Dean almost gave in then, not really being able to resist 'The Eyes' very often. But the thought of seeing Sam's face grinning helplessly was far too tempting.

"Now, if I remember correctly you have three sweet spots…" Dean trailed off as he lifted his hands.

"Dean! Please don't—" Sam's protest was cut off as Dean dug his fingers into Sam's sides. Sam clamped his mouth shut and screwed his eyes shut, trying his hardest to keep the laughter in. Maybe if he didn't laugh, Dean would stop.

But of course this is Sam's life we're talking about here.

Dean moved up to his lower ribs and Sam lost it. "Dean! N-No! Plehehehehehease!"

"Oh yeah, the lower ribs. Sweet spot number one." Dean said with an evil grin as he attacked with renewed vigor.

"Deeheeheeheean! Don't! Stahahahahahahap!"

"What was that Sammy? Don't stop? Don't worry, I wasn't planning to." Dean cackled. He moved his hands up to his upper ribs before shoving them under Sam's underarms. Sam gasped.

"Not thehehehehere!" Sam begged. He had his head thrown back, deep laughter pouring from his mouth. He was struggling less now, the tickling leaving him weak. Dean relished at the sound of his little brother's laughter. He didn't get to hear it enough, and he had actually kind of missed it. Their lives were full of sadness, blood, death, etc. It was rare when there was true happiness in their lives. And if Dean could help bring some fun and laughter to Sammy, well then he was gonna do it. Plus, this was sweet revenge for last week when Sam drank the last beer.

"Sweet spot number two!" Dean announced.

"Nohohohohohoo! Deeheeheeheean! I-I can't—hahahahahaha—take it! Hahahahahaha!"

"Where's sweet spot number three?" Dean asked. He moved his hands back down to Sam's ribs, laughing madly as Sam shrieked and giggled insanely. Dean tried his hips next, digging his thumbs into the hollows of Sam's hips. Dean was rewarded with another shriek, but it wasn't the last sweet spot. Dean already knew that Sam's feet were sensitive but not that sensitive. Sam was squirming too much for him to try the back of his knees. So while trying to find the last spot he decided to torture his brother's other sweet spots.

"DEAN! Plehehehehease! I c-can't breathe! Hahahahaha!" Sam cried. It tickled so damn much! Sam couldn't think of anything else as his whole body writhed in ticklish anguish. Dean was going to find his worst spot soon and Sam was certain he would pass out from the lack of air if he did. Dean was playing his ribs like a piano, digging in with just enough pressure to drive Sam insane. Dean kept switching from his ribs to his underarms over and over again.

"Would ya idjits keep it down?" Bobby yelled from the kitchen.

"B-Bobby! Plehehehehease! H-Help mehehehehehehee!" Sam begged through his laughter.

"Stay outta this Bobby!" Dean yelled, continuing to tickle the snot out of his pain in the ass little brother. He snuck a glance at the door and saw Bobby smirking at the mess that was Sam Winchester.

"At least let the boy breathe." Bobby said.

"Not until I find the spot."

"You don't remember? Jeez Dean, I thought you knew everything about the kid. Even I remember the spot." Bobby replied.

"Where?" Dean demanded, not stopping his tickling.

"His neck."

Sam had just enough time for a strangled 'No!' as Dean's fingers flew straight to Sam's neck. Sam's laughter reached an entirely new octave as Dean brushed his fingers softly at Sam's neck. Sam scrunched his shoulders up and shook his head from side to side.

"B-Bobby! Hahahahahaha! Plehehehehehease!"

Bobby just chuckled and left the room. The boys needed this. Needed the silliness. They never did get enough when they were kids.

Dean eventually stopped once Sam's voice started to sound hoarse. He pinched his brother's side once more as he climbed off of him and sat at the other side of the couch. Sam immediately wrapped his arms around his torso, bringing his knees up to his chest, and backing up against the couch, as far away from Dean as he could get. Sam still had that helpless grin on his face, panting for breath.

"Jerk…" Sam panted, grinning widely at Dean.

Dean's lips quirked slightly. "Bitch."


End file.
